


she's all states, and all princes

by karikes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M, Flirting, Nyota doesn't want a husband but her parents are after her, Romance, Sexual Tension, This is vaguely nsfw, a bunch of allusion to but no actual explicit scenes, just that heady sexual attraction between two hot as fuck characters, you know how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 12:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13741317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karikes/pseuds/karikes
Summary: He won’t look away from her and she is about to get up and move just so she can shift the weight of his gaze. She shifts her body weight forward, but at that moment, he leans in.“You should not play games with your prey, my lady. It’s impolite.”And then he is gone and she is left to stare at the settee where he was a moment ago. She can smell a faint whiff of his cologne and remember the cut of his cheekbones; how brown his eyes were and the shape of his mouth as he spoke.Or; scenes from a not-courtship.





	she's all states, and all princes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SHCombatalade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHCombatalade/gifts).



> I wanted to write something regency for mchura, but I didn’t think something big and elaborate was within my capabilities PLUS I have a Pride and Prejudice AU and an arranged marriage one for them to finish. So this is short, but I’m going to make up for it later, I promise.
> 
> I told my dear friend I'm gifting this to that this would be done by Christmas, and then life happened. It's here now, though!
> 
> Title is from [The Sun Rising](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44129/the-sun-rising) by John Donne.

**i.**

Nyota leans into her hand, her elbow on her desk. She knows her mother will admonish her for the lines on her cheek, but she likes to read this way. She likes to read far too much, her mother says. Her father just makes that noise in the back of his throat and retreats to his library with his pipe. 

When they entertain, her mother is always throwing young men in her path. Not that Lady Uhura needs to, what with her youngest daughter’s beauty and grace. They’ll throw themselves in her path every chance they get. 

Nyota doesn’t have time for men who wish to simper and sigh over her. The favors they shower upon her get given to her maids half the time. The other half Lady Uhura forces Nyota to keep until she can slip them away.

Nyota likes to dance, though, so she tolerates a lot of nonsense. They’re having a dance tonight, and she’s heard Lord Kirk is bringing a close friend of his that she hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting yet.

Her father clears his throat behind her and she starts. He has an odd look in his eyes when she turns around to look at him.

“We need to talk,” he says, and something in Nyota’s chest clenches. Her father never says that when they talk.

“Yes?” She chooses to feign ignorance. She knows this is about her being twenty-three and yet unmarried.

She will submit for an hour or so. 

But only for that long.

**ii.**

Nyota has excellent self-control. She nearly squeaks when she meets Viscount McCoy’s eyes for the first time.

There’s something in the way his cravat flows from his throat, the line of his jaw, and the darkness of his eyes that captivates her. He’s one of the most attractive men she’s seen in a long time. Besides that, his lips are incredibly soft as he bends to kiss her hand.

She dances twice with him after dinner, no more than anyone else, but she likes the sound of his voice enough she makes him talk the entire time they dance.

His hands are nice too, firm around her waist and fingers.

Nyota thinks that she’s going to flirt with him the next time he comes.

Her mother is demanding she is married in a year. Her father is acquiescing. Her desire to flirt with the viscount has nothing to do with this. Nyota would rather die than be chained to a man, unable to flirt with anyone she chooses; to hold the attention of anyone she wishes.

**iii.**

Leonard inclines his head. “Good evening, Lady Uhura.”

“Good evening, sir.” Nyota wonders if she ought to address him further, but there’s a look in his eyes that makes her feel a little tight in her chest.

Viscount McCoy is one of the most handsome men she has seen in her life, and even though this is not their first meeting- God, she hopes it won’t be their last- she is still struck by his looks.

“Tell me a story, sir,” she says impulsively. 

He raises an eyebrow, but does not move. “What kind of a story does my lady desire?”

“Tell me a story about a queen.” Nyota feels a sudden blush creep across her cheeks. She does not know why.

McCoy sits. “As my lady wishes,” he says, and she can feel his voice in her chest. 

“There once was a queen of a far off land,” he begins. His eyes are fixated on her. “She was a strong ruler, but her heart was desolate, for her husband the king had been killed in battle some years past. They had no children together, so she was alone in the prime of her life. Time passed and her heart ached less. She did not find another husband to warm her days and nights, but she continued to serve her people well. When she died, her country mourned her passing.”

Nyota shifts in her chair. She feels distinctly like the viscount has just seen her underthings. “That’s an odd story to tell a lady,” she says.

He won’t look away from her. “Is it?”

There’s a faint dusting of stubble on his chin due to the late hour of the day. She wants to know what it feels like against the palm of her hand.

“Yes,” she says firmly. “What was the point?”

“Do stories have to have a point?” 

Nyota thinks that his gaze might actually ignite her gown. “I find that they are generally better when they do.”

“You are an intelligent woman, Lady Uhura. If you believe stories must have a point, I’m sure you can decide what the point of this story is.”

He won’t look away from her and she is about to get up and move just so she can shift the weight of his gaze. She shifts her body weight forward, but at that moment, he leans in.

“You should not play games with your prey, my lady. It’s impolite.”

And then he is gone and she is left to stare at the settee where he was a moment ago. She can smell a faint whiff of his cologne and remember the cut of his cheekbones; how brown his eyes were and the shape of his mouth as he spoke.

Nyota thinks that she might like to kiss him. She finds herself sighing and immediately shuts her mouth and stands. She’s going to go dance with someone who isn’t McCoy. Perhaps Kirk. He’s a good dancer and nice to look at, even if she’d never marry him in a million years.

**iv.**

McCoy is seated next to her tonight, infuriatingly. Nyota knows it was her mother’s doing, and she feels the urge to be rude to the man out of spite for her mother. But she won’t, because she actually likes him. He’s witty and lord, is he handsome.

“How do you find the fish this evening?” She asks him, relishing how close he is to her. She could sway to her right and feel his breath on her ear.

“It’s delicious,” he replies. His eyes are locked with hers as he takes a bite.

“Are you suggesting something improper?” Nyota keeps her voice low, and her eyes are sparkling. McCoy is fun to flirt with, more so than all those other frivolous boys.

“To a lady such as yourself?” McCoy raises an eyebrow. “I should think my time would be better spent in other pursuits.”

“Such as?” Nyota sets her fork down and turns her full attention to him. 

He leans in ever so slightly. “Kissing you,” he says.

She shivers slightly and tries not to focus on the desire coiling in her groin when she thinks of kissing him, sliding those layers of clothing off and touching his bare skin.

“Your lips, your neck.” His voice lowers and he leans in closer. “Your breasts.”

She clenches her thighs, desperately wishing she was alone- with McCoy or without him, she can’t decide.

“Actually doing something improper,” he finishes, his eyes deep and dark.

“You are a dangerous man,” Nyota says. She is absolutely not blushing right now. “I should never dream of being left alone with you, my lord.”

“I should think you would rather enjoy it.” McCoy smiles and straightens his back. “Would you care to dance after dinner?”

“You are impertinent.” She stares at him for a moment, studying his eyes. “You may have the first dance,” she says finally.

“I shall look forward to it.” 

Sometimes, Nyota wishes that she had never met Viscount McCoy. He’s horrific, all things considered. Maybe that’s why she likes him so much: she knows her mother would hate him if she were actually acquainted with him. 

When they dance, she can feel the heat of his hand seeping through her dress to her shoulder. She wishes that she could have his hand in hers for forever. But the dance is over all too soon, and she cannot stare at every minute detail of his face any longer.

McCoy kisses her hand afterwards and smiles at her. “It was a pleasure, my lady,” he says, and Nyota swears that he means something filthy.

Not that she actually minds. She’d like him to mean something filthy.

**v.**

Nyota feels her heart begin the pound the moment she sees Leonard. He’s so, so- She doesn’t really have words. It’s been two months since they were first introduced. His eyes capture her attention every moment they are in the same room together, his figure is dashing to say the least, she dreams of his hands wrapping around her waist, and besides all this: he is incredibly intelligent and she always finds herself well-matched in conversation.

She might be in over her head- a simple flirtation with an attractive man wrapping around her ankles and trapping her to a life she never believed might be for her.

**vi.**

Tonight, they are dancing in the garden. Nyota had insisted and her mother had acquiesced after only the smallest fuss. It’s a gorgeous evening, and Nyota doesn’t wish she was inside with a book for once.

She wishes she was in Viscount McCoy’s arms right now. He isn’t here yet, or if he is, she can’t find him, which is really quite disappointing, but there’s plenty of men to dance with and plenty of punch to drink while she waits for him.

Nyota is waiting for him. She is always waiting for him, she realizes as her (frankly too short) partner swirls her around. Her gown blooms around her feet and her heart rises in her throat as she catches sight of  _ him _ across the garden.

He is gone as quickly as she sees him, her body completing the turn and coming back to her partner’s arms. She thinks of him every moment longer she cannot see him and begs a headache from the rest of the dance.

Nyota is not a foolish woman, but something about McCoy makes her want to be. She wonders what it would be like to let the careful control she cultivates slip from her shoulders. 

“Good evening,” she says, as if she has not been waiting to see him again since the moment he left last week. Perhaps her control is always slipping around him. He makes her crave release from it all- her corset just a smidge too tight, her perfectly arranged hair, the artful smile she holds.

“My lady,” he says, and kisses her hand with the same civility as the first time he did so. “You seemed anxious to leave the dance floor tonight. Are you unwell?”

The look in McCoy’s eyes says that he knows she is not, but dares her to lie anyways. Nyota does not take the bait.

“I am not,” she says, slightly breathless. “I merely wished to be elsewhere right now.”

With him, she means. He knows it, too.

“Will you walk with me?”

Nyota feels as if she is about to faint. They have never done anything like this. For all McCoy’s words of indiscretion, he has respected her statement from long ago as law. Perhaps he will wrap his hands around her waist and kiss her until she cannot breathe. She’d like that.

“Are you going to ravish me behind a tree?” She raises an eyebrow delicately, but stands anyways. Her hesitation is overcome by her curiosity and that thin line of desire that threads through her chest every time she sees him.

“Only if my lady wishes it,” McCoy says evenly, and then he offers her his arm.

Nyota knows how firm he is, the strength that is coiled beneath his skin. She can feel it every time they dance. Every time he lifts his fork she watches his muscles shift beneath his clothing and every time he talks, he uses his hands and she can see his biceps flex inside his suit.

She takes his arm. “Hmm,” she says. “I am still deliberating.”

They walk a bit aways, into a corner, but still very much in the light. 

“I asked your father for your hand,” McCoy says without turning to look at her. “He accepted, of course. I would prefer your consent as well.”

Nyota twists to face him, her hand still on his arm. “Of course,” she breathes before she can even think. “Of course I want to marry you.” 

That thin line of fire jumps higher, and she is having a hard time breathing. She  _ aches _ for him.

McCoy smiles. “I thought as much.”

She grips his arm fiercely. “Aren’t you going to kiss me then?”

He chuckles. “I think you are well aware that once I start I will not stop.” He lowers his voice and leans a little closer. “I would take you in the library while anyone could walk in- I’ve dreamt of it. No, my lady Uhura. I’ll kiss you once we are wed, and not before.”

Part of Nyota feels disappointed and the other part- the part that burns to touch every inch of his skin- smiles. 

“Acceptable,” she says, and lifts his hand to her face. She kisses his knuckles. “Shall we announce our engagement?”

**vii.**

Nyota’s chest is a swirling symphony as her father hands her over to Leonard. She thinks she’s never been happier in her entire life. And then he kisses her- very indecently- in front of nearly a hundred people and she thinks that she’s even happier now.

Later, when he undresses her slowly- so slowly she thinks she’s going to die from anticipation- she decides she was wrong.

And then his hands are  _ everywhere _ and his breath is hot in her ear, her own hitching.

_ Yes, _ she thinks, and yes she gasps, and Leonard just smiles and says “Yes?” with that smirk she hated months ago and now is just more fuel to the fire.

Even later, she thinks that she is not trapped by marriage- by her husband- not when it’s Leonard. Not when it’s him sleeping beside her, his hand on her hip. Leonard only wants to set her free.

Nyota has made her choice. It is not a submission, not by any means. It is a victory, that she has found a man who will take her as she is, that will give her what she needs.

She rolls over, pressing into Leonard’s chest. His arm wraps around her and tugs her closer.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!! If you want to catch me elsewhere, I'm over on [tumblr](https://karikes.tumblr.com/).


End file.
